


You're the light in my darkness

by idekwhatimdoin



Category: Call of Duty
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Original Character(s), Pre-Relationship, advanced warfare
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-02 09:43:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5243636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idekwhatimdoin/pseuds/idekwhatimdoin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“If your wrong about Irons, I’ll hunt you down myself.” </p><p>“I’m not wrong.” Ilona stated defensively as she met Gideon’s gaze head on, hers full of determination, unfazed by his threatening position. Mitchell felt himself slowly started to crack, breaking apart as easily as a glass shattering to the ground but he wouldn’t admit it to anyone but himself. When Gideon looked over at him, their eyes met for a split second, long enough for Gideon to pick up how hurt Mitchell was before the latter diverted his gaze. He didn’t see the way Gideon flinched at this small action, making him realize just how broke his decisions had made the Private.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so well, this is my first time writing a Gideon/Mitchell story and I've really tried my best on this so, please enjoy! I'm also really sorry that the chapter might seem short and the plot won't be the same as the game due to the fact that I find it harder to write a story along a given plot but I still hope that it will still be interesting.
> 
> PLEASE COMMENT SO I KNOW PEOPLE ENJOY MY WORK! :)

Soldiers would love a day where they could just sit around, relax and do what ever they want, not having to worry about their lives hanging in the balance of every action they did on the field 24/7. But not in this case. Mitchell absently let his fist fingers tap against the side of his leg, his gaze moving in and out of focus as he stared at a single spot on the wall, unaware of anything going around him. He knew this wasn’t a good habit to develop especially on the field where he need to be at his best, aware of everything going on around him.

His skin crawled with a need to do something, anything but sit around and do nothing. But his body also buzzed with excitement, being able to finally get back into the field after he got his arm calibrated and some practice in. He wanted nothing more but to be useful once more, instead of feeling like a complete waste of space and money on. This made his heart drop, a gloomy feeling creeping into his chest and mind as the thought arose, his hand unconsciously going to clutch at the stump his arm once was.

He was snapped back into focus as an exclamation came from the captain beside him.

“Oi, Mitchell! You listening?” His eyes shot up meeting the stormy blue eyes ones that stared back at him with a slightly irritated look, his eyes swiftly glancing at the set of numbers under captain’s left eye, still unsure about what they stand for. He understood the Union Jack tattoo on the right side of the blonde's neck but never the numbers.

“Huh? Oh… yeah.” His eyes fell, glancing over to the side as the hand on his left stump tightened its grip. He failed to notice the blonde’s eyes loose the irritated look upon catching sight of the action, understanding seeping into them. Gideon glanced to the side after having stared at the Private in front of him as he stared at the ground in slight anger mixed with gloom. He reached his arm wrapping around Mitchell’s shoulder, hand landing on his shoulder, giving it an encouraging squeeze. Mitchell looked over as Gideon urged them back on track, a grin on the captain’s face as they started back on their way to the Exo Research lab to get his arm calibrated.

“You better be listening or I’ll kick your arse.” He playfully threatened, glancing to see if his plan to lift Mitchell’s mood worked, a soft chuckle from the male beside him confirming a job well done.

“Yes sir, captain.” The American retorted back, as they made it to the doors of the lab, coming to a stop. Mitchell spared a glance at the hands that landed on his shoulders as he was turned to face the shorter man in front of him, his steady and serious stare meeting his bewildered ones.

“Get some rest after this, okay? You look like shit.” A small smile spread across his face at this, barely concealing a laugh.

“Thanks.”

“Your welcome. But seriously, get some rest.” He mumbled softly, one of those rare soft looks he gives to those ‘who are worthy’.

He bobbed his head before the Brit returned it, releasing him.

His words echoed in his mind even after the captain left.

“Alright, let’s take a look at that arm.” Mitchell barely registered the sharp pain surged up from where his nerves connected to the artificial ones in his prosthetic arm, his mind too focused on the encounter he’s just had with Gideon. His eyes were still glued to the spot on the door where Gideon had just been before the calibration of his arm started, a rare yet soft smile marring his features as he turned away.

‘But seriously, get some rest.’


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gideon apparently seems to be observant and responsible.

_“Mitchell, we’re out of time! You gotta jump now!”_

_He ignored what his best friend had told him, continuing to pull his hardest on the panel trapping Will’s arm. Will noticed that Mitchell wasn’t going to give up, pulling him by the front of his harness, to stop the latter’s futile efforts, connecting eyes with Mitchell’s frantic bright blue ones._

_“It’s okay.”_

_‘No, don’t say that, Will.’_

_“I’ll see you on the other side.” His actions afterwards shocked Mitchell, his hands flying to find purchase in the aircraft before Will’s shove sent him falling back, his face staring back at him as he seemed to fall in slow motion._

_“WWWIIILLLLLLLLLL!!!!!”_

Mitchell gasped as he jolted up in his bed, his prosthetic jerking to clutch at the sheets beneath him as he hyperventilated. His real hand flew up to clutch at his head, chest heaving as he tried to calm down, the nightmares of the past hitting him full force in the vulnerability of the night. His skin felt sticky to the touch, a sheen of sweat covering his face as his heart pounded like a bullet had whizzed past him. Well, he couldn’t really compare it to that since on the field bullets always whiz by.

He was sweating like a faucet, cold air pouring through the cracks in the window, sending shivers through his body and clearing away the last, clinging tendrils of the dream. He stared down at the sheets covering his legs with wide eyes. The bed was a mess, the sheets and blankets all screwned up in a ball from his previous tossing and turning. The first time he’d had a nightmare about Will’s death, he’d woken up racketing with spasms of sickness and a fever. A spasm hit now, instinctively making him scatter away from the mess that once was his bed, hands scraping at the ground as his back hit against the opposite wall, curling up in a ball as he willed the spasms to end, quick rapid gasps escaping his throat.

‘I hate it. I hate it when I feel like this… so useless…’

It lay like a rock on his shoulders and in his heart, a lump in his throat as his chest tightened in an unpleasant way. This feeling like a shadow. It dwells in the deepest and darkest places; in your heart, mind, soul, anywhere if can find purchase and feeds off of the shame and anger that inhabits its carrier.

If he hadn’t given the charges to Will, he would still be here and he wouldn’t have this stupid prosthetic that just mocks him, always being the proof that screams at him that he’s disabled, broken! He should have been the one to plant the charges. He should have been the one who had gotten caught by the panel, he should have been the one who had taken the blow, and Will should be the one living his life! Not him!

He stared at the prosthetic connecting to his upper left arm, clenching his fist, the metal peeking through the artificial skin as it reminded him that with or without it, he’s weak and just a burden with no hope for a life outside of Atlas.

The feelings that smeared together into just one big flaming ball; shame, grief, anger…

Anger.

But at who?

It boiled through his veins, bubbling under his skin as his muscles bunched up, a shout of rage escaping him as his fist punctured the wall, cracks webbing out from where his fist hit. Quick sobs immediately started to tear from his throat, glimmering droplets of liquid slipping down his cheeks and hitting the floor, his fist moving from its trembling state on the wall to land one more hit to it, but this one less meaningful than the first.

“Will. You idiot.” He gasped out, knowing that he wasn’t angry at Will for making the decision he did, but at himself for not being able to do anything.

 

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

 

Mitchell had always been an obedient child, always doing what he was told without question. He had a calm demeanor to him, a steady air around him that just made people trust him, lift a gloomy atmosphere. He was a good child and now a good soldier. He never spoke unless spoken to during missions, following the orders that Gideon would give him. Although he did have a spark of a childish side to him, especially when given new toys.

People had started to notice that of the young Private, as well as seeing how Irons took a shining to him as soon as he joined Atlas after Will’s funeral. They had also noticed that shortly after he was entered, another had taken a liking. A certain captain. Not that Mitchell minded, knowing how Gideon was with his squad, always making sure that everyone was on target, on alert. You could say they were like a family, Gideon being the responsible one that looks over all the wild soldiers like Joker.

Due to this, he’s gotten quiet good at reading the members of his squad, knowing when something was wrong but never taking his confrontations head on. The man knew that anything troubling them outside of the field would affect how affective they are in battle, needing them all to be at our peaks. He’d tell us to get our head in the game, suck it up and get our head back into the battle.

Except, this was one of those times when Mitchell wished that Gideon wasn’t that observant. Gideon had arranged for them to practice at the firing range to work on Mitchell’s motor skill with the new calibrated arm, needing to get it up to par before he was thrown into field once more. But after what happened last night, he had gotten little to no sleep, unable to get back to bed. His eyes were red and puffy, cheeks and nose slightly pink.

Gideon stood at the range, arms crossed as he looked out at the targets as they were being shot by fellow soldiers, throwing a remark on their shooting skills here and there. Surprisingly, the beanie that was usually on his head was absent, his black blonde hair making an appearance in their slightly spiked style. Mitchell was pulled out of his scrutinize his captain mode as said male glanced over, seeing a look of concern slowly invade his eyes, causing Mitchell to quickly draw his eyes away, absently glaring at the ground as he walked over to the gun rack, pulling up a Bal-27, moving to the closest space and pulling on a pair of soundproof headphones on and glasses.

He started the targets before bringing up the gun, looking down the barrel, the dull sound of the gun firing slipping through the ear protection, arms vibrating with each bullet released.

_“Mitchell, we’re out of time! You gotta jump now!”_

The bullets became more frequent.

_“It’s okay.”_

No, it’s not okay! Don’t say something is okay when you know it’s not.

_“I’ll see you on the other side.”_

The gun clicked, over and over signaling that the mag was finished, eyes finally taking in account for the targets that were unfairly mowed down by the unrelenting hail of bullets.

He processed that his chest was heaving once more, heavy breathes escaping his lips as he stared at the targets before pulling the ear protection off and glasses, pulling out the spent mag before grabbing for another. But what made him startle slightly was when a hand met the mag before him, a voice accompanying the appendage.

“Mitchell, hey, everything alright?”

Gideon.

Mitchell’s eyes glanced up for a moment, catching sight of the older man’s concerned face before pulling the mag from under his hand and slipping it into the gun. Just as he was about to raise the gun and fire it, Gideon did something wild. He slapped his hand down on the barrel of the gun, forcing it down from its position against Mitchell’s shoulder, earning a protest from Mitchell.

“What are you-”

“Cut the shite, Jack.” This caused Mitchell to freeze. Gideon using his first name in such a commanding voice. He never called him ‘Jack’ unless it was something serious. He reluctantly lowered the gun, firing at the targets having helped keep his mind off of all the messed up parts of his life. He lifted his eyes to meet Gideon’s narrowed ones.

His tone and actions set a fire in Mitchell’s eyes as he clenched his jaws, opening his mouth to say something when he was cut off once more.

“Shut up, Jack.” This time it lost some of its razors, softened with a cloud as Mitchell’s eyes flew wide as he was pulled forwards, strong arms wrapping around him, a hand running its fingers through his soft dark chocolate locks, having decided to let it grow out slightly.

‘W-what?’

Mitchell’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion but didn’t pull away, secretly liking the way Gideon’s frame fit against his, the warmth that radiated off of him in waves, surprisingly soothing. Of course, he’d never tell the Brit that but he can have secrets can’t he?

He lifted his arms which were hanging limply at his sides, encircling them around his captain’s smaller frame, once more enjoying how he fit in his arms this time, the strong body within his arms comforting him in a way that he had never experienced before, not even with his own parents.

A laugh was heard from somewhere away, his face slightly heating up before Gideon’s voice interrupted second thoughts.

“Bugger off, Joker!”

Mitchell couldn’t help but smile just the teensiest to this, a warm feeling spreading through his chest, shying away the darkness that consumed him.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitchell wants to go on the mission and Gideon points out his worries on the field.

When Mitchell had gotten back to his room after having to go through a training simulation. Sure he finished the shooting part of getting back on his feet with his new calibrated arm but there were still more evaluations he had to get through to be released back in the field. Much more.

So here he was, watching with a slightly annoyed look in his eyes, one that you would only be able to see if you really squinted, standing to the side as his two comrades fiddled around. The Russian glanced over at him with an amused smile, pausing in her movements of piecing her pistol together, clips attached to the belt around her hip. 

“Oh, Mitchell, why the sulk face?” She cooed, “Is someone sulking about something?”

Mitchell rolled his eyes, his fingers flexing from their position on his arm, the appendages crossed over his chest, remaining silent.

“He’s just upset that he can’t come on the mission.” Joker pitched in, causing the addressed brunette to send him a look before he dropped his eyes, brows narrowed at the ground as if daring it to move. A hand on his shoulder brought his eyes up to meet the brown ones of Ilona. 

“Cheer up, Mitchell. Once you finish the evaluations, then you’ll be able to join us again.” 

Mitchell grumbled slightly, the difference in texture between his flesh arm and prosthetic one nagging at the back of his mind. 

“Now, why don’t you go fetch Gideon. He was suppose to be here 5 minutes ago.”

The private didn’t question or disobey, moving towards the door without looking up as he passed through the multiple halls, moving to the dorm buildings. He occasionally nodded to those who greeted him, walking through and up many stairs and halls to get to the door he was now posted at. The name ‘Gideon’ was placed in the center, labeling it as his room. 

Mitchell non too softly knocked on the door before grabbing the knob and pushing the door open, surprised that it was unlocked. 

“Gideon, Ilona and Joker are waiting fo-” Mitchell’s eyes bugged out as his jaw fell slack at the sight in front of him, immediately feeling embarrassed. His captain stood at his bed, a shirt in his hand, back to the Private. Mitchell felt a lump form in his throat, swallowing it down harshly as the older man looked over at his calmly, unphased by the fact that Mitchell had just barged in on him shirtless. He felt a flush of heat flush up the back of his neck as his captain’s eyes met his, immediately dropping them down the ground. 

“My apologize, I should have waited for your consent. I’ll just leave and come back later when you’re ready.” The flushed American quickly spun on his heel, moving to head out of the door when Gideon sighed from behind him, the sound of fabric rustling before the door in front of him was pushed closed by a hand the brushed by his head, feeling even more awkward now that Gideon had trapped him in here.

“Turn around.”

“Y-Yes sir.”

“Drop the formalities, Mitchell.”

“Y-Yes sir- I mean- Gideon.”

An amused huff left the man who was now in front of him, eyebrow raised at the Privates flushed face and amusing look.

“What’s got you red faced?” 

He would have laughed at this but then the reason he was down here flitted by, the heat under his skin melting away as the same sullen expression returned. He missed the look Gideon sent him as he looked away from him. 

“Joker and Ilona told me to tell you to get down to them.” He ground out, “You’ll be late for your mission.”

There was no response from Gideon, tempting him to look up, trying to read the others expression. When he couldn’t, he had to bear through the silence.

“Did I ever tell you, you looked like a kicked puppy sometimes.” This surprised him, eyes flying wide as he blinked at his captain in astonishment.

“Wh-what? No! That’s not-that’s not-” 

“I’m kidding.” He stated before his hand brushed stray strands of Mitchell’s dark brown hair off his forehead, having fallen out of place when he freaked out on walking in on his captain half naked and being called a kicked puppy.

A kicked puppy.

A puppy.

The warm feeling that appeared when he was around Gideon at the firing range spread through his chest once more, hovering there.

“I bet this is about not being able to come on the mission.” Mitchell’s ashamed expression was a dead give away as Gideon nodded his head in knowing before he addressed Mitchell calmly. 

“You’ll be able to get out soon. Don’t hit yourself over it.” The next thing Gideon said confused him. “Plus, it’ll give me a break.”

What? Give him a break? You’re on the field, being shot at and trying to not die, is there even a meaning for ‘break’ out there?

“What do you mean?”

Gideon paused his actions of moving to the door as Mitchell struck his hand out, grabbing the Brit by the wrist, causing him to look down at the captured appendage, giving a ‘are you serious?’ look to the younger man who awkwardly retreated his hand.

“I mean, you’re so quiet on the field. You never question the orders I give you, never ask for help. You never even announce when you’re hurt!” Mitchell lowered his head in thought. It is just habit that he never announces when he’s hurt or ask for help. Ever since he was little, his parents wouldn’t even bother with a scratch that turned into a scar, hell, his parents wouldn’t even care if he was attacked by the school bully. 

And addressing the point of never questioning orders, he sees no point in it. Your captain give you an order, you follow. That’s what he learned in the military. If you question the orders given, you were punished. 

“I mean, seriously, you got hit by a car and slammed into a wall eliciting nothing but a gasp. You didn’t even go to the nurse and I doubt that you’re even fit in health wise with how many bruises and broken ribs your hiding.” Mitchell’s hand absently moved to hold at his side where the multiple broken ribs where, feeling a sharp stab of pain from them. 

Mitchell felt slightly angered by the fact that Gideon was pointing out all the flaws he had with Mitchell’s actions but he was also touched that he had noticed so much about him in only a few months. 

“Don’t think I don’t notice the way you’re gingerly walking around, avoiding making any serious movements.”

Gideon’s hand ran through his black-blond hair in frustration, seeing how tense his muscles were, letting out an exasperated sigh.

Mitchell let the anger drain away, the warmth turned into a fire as he let his eyes fall softly on the short male in front of him, seeing how truly concerned and honest look in his eyes and tone.

“I know that you might think that I’m being a fucking twat but, fuck me-” 

Mitchell moved in closer to Gideon, picking up on the stressed atmosphere he was giving off, giving him a reassuring look. 

“From now on, if I need help, disagree with your orders or hurt, I’ll voice it, okay?” Gideon held his eyes for a few moments, searching them before he nodded slowly, the tense muscles tumbling out as he let his shoulders sag, defeated. 

“Yeah, you better.”

This brought a small smile to Mitchell’s lips, reminding him of the first time Gideon showed a soft side. 

“You better be listening or I’ll kick your arse.”

A sharp pain came from his side when Gideon’s arm brushed against it, tensing up. Gideon noticed the pained expression, sending him a pointed look.

“Ow?” Mitchell experimented with before Gideon released a chuckle.

“Fucking arse. Go to the infirmary.”

“Roger that.”


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitchell doesn't like that he can't go on missions while Ilona, Joker and Gideon do.

“You, mister,” The blond haired nurse next to him pointed a accusing finger at him, wagging it in a playful manner, “are now restricted to the base for another few days.” She scolded. Mitchell immediately felt his face fall into a frown, nose scrunched up.

“If you had come sooner, you would have been back in the field by tomorrow.” The nurse informed and Mitchell sighed. Great. Now another few days of doing absolutely nothing.

“Told ya, mate.” Mitchell raised his head, meeting the ‘I told you so’ smirk his captain sent his way, his arms crossed and his Exosuit still adorning his figure. The young Private blinked at him, bewildered at how his captain had gotten there without him noticing at all, eyes furrowing as he glanced between the door and Gideon.

“But- how- when…”

The nurse and Gideon shared a look before she smiled, looking back to Mitchell.

“You’re free to go. But remember, no missions.” She nodded a farewell before disappearing through the door. The silence in the room gradually built up as Mitchell started to fidget on the bed, knuckles gripping the sides of the bed. He dared look up, seeing Gideon still watching him, eyebrow raised before he pushed off from the wall he was leaning against, making his way over.

A hand moving to the bandages on his side caused him to jerk up, head almost colliding with Gideon’s as he stared like a deer caught in headlight. Thankfully, the British man was too occupied with studying his injuries that he missed the look in Mitchell’s eyes.

“So, what-” He cleared his throat, his voice sounding slightly higher than usual, a squeaky effect to it. “What are you doing here?”

This caused the shorter man to look up at him. “I came to make sure you did what I said.”

“Which I did as you can see.”

“Yeah. I’ll get you next time.” Gideon playfully threatened before he stepped back, allowing Mitchell some room to move, glancing at the door before nodding towards the door. “Come on, you’re probably hungry. I sure am.”

Mitchell seemed to perk up slightly at this, having a rare chance to meal with the usually busy captain but also for another reason. It like something’s nagging at the back of his head, urging him towards the older man, a flutter in his heart when the Brit was considerably close, a flip of his stomach when he caught his eye.

He nodded, eagerly jumping off the bed, grabbing his shirt and pulling it over his head, fairly aware of the eyes that tracked him.

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

The canteen was exceptionally loud, soldiers that had just come back from their missions, length of mission times varying as they all crowded with their fellow friends at the multiple tables in the room. Mitchell stared at them in slight envy, but not enough to actually do something about it. They got to go on missions but he couldn’t.

“Aw, is someone pouting again?” Joker’s voice cut through the many voices ringing through the atmosphere, the sound of something hitting flesh following with an ‘ow!’.

“You arsehole.”

He turned his head to see Gideon sending a nasty look over to Joker, the latter currently rubbing the back of his head where the captain must have hit him upside the head, sticking his tongue out daringly at the British man.

“Why you-”

“Ahem!” All heads turned to see a very serious Ilona sitting with her arms crossed from her spot next to Mitchell, resulting in the two males to settle back down, Joker wearing a victorious grin.

“Fuck me.” Mitchell caught Gideon mutter under his breath, seeming to send a mess of mixed signals, tingles going down his spine, the latter managing to catch his perplexed gaze, an eyebrow arching at noticing the Private’s appearance.

“Oi, Mitchell.” Said male jumped up, startled slightly out of his stupor, face slightly flushing in embarrassment.

“S-Sorry, sir.”

“Mitchell.” He flinched slightly, noticing his mistake.

“Sorry, Gideon.”

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

Laughs went around the table as Ilona continued with her story about the mission.

“So, Gideon went to make sure the room was clear and-”

The table shook as Gideon jumped up, hands slamming against the table surface, jaw slack as he stared at her with a purely dangerous look, warning her.

“Don’t you dare.”

“-and tripped right over an overturned chair!”

Gideon dropped back down with a frustrated groan, giving up now that she had already spilled his clumsiness. Joker and Ilona were both laughing up a storm, Joker more than Ilona since she was not one for exploding like Joker was. Gideon leaned on one hand, covering his face as he cursed under his breath at the wicked Russian.

“You should have seen him! He went flipping forwards! It was comical!”

Mitchell was the only one who wasn’t laughing at Gideon’s actions but he was staring at him, expression slack.

His captain. Gideon. The British man who barks orders, keeps tabs on all his men, makes sure that they all have a tomorrow. He was the cautious one during missions. But this… this information? That his captain was in fact clumsy! Now that he thought about it, there must be like a switch that disables Gideon’s clumsiness during missions and enables it off duty. He’s like a cyborg!

This brought a grin to Mitchell’s face, still staring at the poor man he was commenting on quite childishly, but who could blame him! GIDEON WAS CLUMSY!

Amusingly enough, said man caught his idiotic grin through his fingers, narrowing his eyes at him.

Planning.

“What are you grinning at, you twit?”

Set.

“Oh nothing.”

Gideon eyed him a few more seconds before taking a sip of his coffee. Perfect. Crossing his heart and begging not to be punished, he set his plan in motion.

“Just staring at my klutzy captain.”

The reaction was immediate, Gideon’s eyes widening slightly as he choked on his coffee, placing it down as he spluttered, eye twitching slightly.

SCORE!

“Mitchell!” Gideon choked out between coughs, shock in his tone, but barely masking the amused look in his eyes. Mitchell allowed himself this one childish moment, heading it as ‘worth it’.

“Shall we go?” Ilona suggested and they all stood up from the table, dispersing of their trays before they continued down the hallway. No one spoke, Mitchell walking next to his ‘klutzy’ captain, eyes darting down and ahead.

“So,”

Mitchell broke the silence, leaning slightly towards the shorter man.

“Hm?”

“How klutzy are you? All the time or-?”

“Jack Mitchell, I swear I will-”

Thud!

Mitchell allowed himself to laugh along with Ilona and Joker, watching as they doubled over. Their laughs echoed down the hall, causing others to glance over at them in confusion. He gazed down at his captain as he stumbled back from the wall, eyes spinning as the aftermath of his previous acts. Running into a wall.

He happened to stumble right back into, steadying him as the latter glanced up at him. He was about to glare daggers at Mitchell when he saw the pure joy in his eyes, his heart started to race, pounding fiercely within his chest, the glare slowly melting away as he stared up at the smiling Private who, on so many encounters, had seen nothing but sorrow.

_“Oi, Mitchell! You listening?”_

_“Huh? Oh… yeah.” His eyes fell, glancing over to the side as the hand on his left stump tightened its grip._

_He slapped his hand down on the barrel of the gun, forcing it down from its position against Mitchell’s shoulder, earning a protest from Mitchell._

_“What are you-”_

_“Cut the shite, Jack.”_

_“Did I ever tell you, you looked like a kicked puppy sometimes.”_

There were more times when Mitchell was a wreck then there was when he was happy. And he felt it was his responsibility to fix that. He enjoyed the look, the feeling it gave him and how he knew that Mitchell was truly happy.

‘I guess I could let this one slide.’

Gideon even let out a small chuckle, Mitchell’s body still touching his in this comedic moment.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ilona brings up an interesting topic. TOMATO MITCHELL!  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short! I was loosing the flow and had no idea how to write this scene!

He fumbled slightly with the multiple pieces of a sniper rifle, struggling to place it together. Damn it, it was like a fucking puzzle! The clicks and the sound of the pieces sliding together swiftly surrounded him as his Russian companion assembled the multiple guns in front of her effortlessly, as if she was assembling a mechanical pen that had 2 parts to it. She had an array of different guns assembled in front of her, currently working on the pistol in her hand.

“Done.” She announced, placing the gun on the table next to the others. Mitchell stared at her in astonishment, fingers falling slack as he blinked. He had only been able to assembly a sixth of his pile and she had been able to finish hers in 30 minutes flat.

“Wha-how-” She looked over, rolling her eyes as she saw how large his pile still was, telling him to move so she could start working once more. He turned his focus back onto the gun in his hand, managing to connect the barrel of the gun to the body, placing it down before picking up a pistol, a much smaller and easier one than the rifle.

“So, you and Gideon?” This drew his attention back up to see her looking at him from the corner of her eye, hands still working on the pilled guns.

“What about us?” He was confused as to what the point of her question was.

“You guys seem very close.”

This caused his senses on high alert, trying to hide his embarrassment in being caught. “Well, yeah. He’s my captain after all.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

He was done for it. Of course, she would know. She is Ilona, the most observant one in the whole company most likely. He cleared his throat, feeling blood rush to his face as he busied himself once more with trying to assemble the pistol, hiding his face from view.

“By your reaction, I would say my guess was correct.” He sighed in defeat, slumping slightly.

“How did you know.” She smiled triumphantly, returning to the guns.

“It was easy to tell. You follow him around like a puppy.” His jaw fell slack. A puppy?! How may times does he have to be called a puppy?!

“I-I- I am not a puppy!” She gave him a look.

“I bet he’s called you one as well.” He flinched.

_“Did I ever tell you, you looked like a kicked puppy sometimes.” This surprised him, eyes flying wide as he blinked at his captain in astonishment._

“Wh-what? No! That’s not-that’s not-”

“I’m kidding.” He stated before his hand brushed stray strands of Mitchell’s dark brown hair off his forehead, having fallen out of place when he freaked out on walking in on his captain half naked and being called a kicked puppy.

A kicked puppy.

A puppy.

He was about to open his mouth to respond when, speak of the devil, his voice cut through the air.

“Oi, Mitchell!” Said male straightened up, startled slightly by the captain’s sudden appearance.

“S-Sir!”

Heat rushed to his face like the flood gates, turning him into a human tomato. Ilona’s laughs could be heard through the walls of embarrassment he built around him in that moment.

“What?” Gideon questioned as he glanced between Ilona and Mitchell in confusion.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gideon helps Mitchell get to sleep just with his presence.

Beep!

Gideon roused, eyes blinking the early light streaming through his blinds, announcing it as around 12 at night, way too early/late to be up. The tablet on his bedside table beeped, the screen flashing, signaling that someone had logged into the system. He still wasn’t sure why the tablets notified when a squad mate logged on, like what’s the point?

He groaned, pushing up onto his elbows as he ran a hand through his messy black blond hair, the other reaching out to log in and check his notifications. The name that popped up surprised him, but not as much as he thought it would. And as quickly as it had arrived, it disappeared, the user logging out.

Gideon thought about his options: one, track the bugger down or, two, go back to sleep.

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

The first stop he made was his room, knocking on the door. When there was no answer, he frowned. No sign. The next place he checked was the cafeteria, and to his disappointment, no sign still. Was he in the showers? The rec-room? That was the next place he checked, occasionally nodding to those who were up this early. He was starting to get slightly annoyed, having taken the time to get out of bed and start searching for his sorry ass.

When he was about to give up, walking by the virtual firing range when a shot range out through the still air, jumping slightly at the sound. There he is.

He walked into the large room, racks of gun of all kinds decorating the wall and glass lanes lining the border of the target section. Curls of smooth brown hair caught his eye, catching sight of the targeted man. In his hands he held an AK-47, firing at the targets that popped up, experimenting with each lane.

“Final score: 15:27 seconds.”

The Private let out a deep breath, lowering the gun as Gideon approached him.

“Good score?”

Mitchell jumped slightly, head snapping over to find Gideon walking towards him, lacking for words.

“Uh-y-yeah.” He managed to stutter out. “How long were you there for exactly?”

Instead of answering his question, the captain looked at the score board. He looked over as well, feeling disappointed as his score still came beneath Ilona’s by a few seconds.

“A little more practice and you’ll be well into beating her.”

He let out a small snicker before he lowered his eyes, setting the gun back on the rack after unloading the clip and placing it in its respected place.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Gideon stopped Mitchell as he was about to walk away, a frown on his face. Mitchell blinked at the abrupt movement, literally almost yanking him over face to face. Mitchell held his stare, feeling the urge to look away but at the same time keep looking, his eyes wide in shock. Those stormy blue pools seemed to stare into him, picking every nook and cranny in his possession, eyes unfolding all his darkest thoughts and feelings.

“It was about Will, wasn't it?” He asked a few moments afterwards, a sincere look on his face. Damn the captain for being so observant. He lowered his head dejectedly, feeling too ashamed to meet Gideon’s eyes. He’s a soldier for god’s sake. He shouldn’t be lingering on the past, no matter how bad the memory is.

“I know that look. Stop thinking like that.” Damn, he is good.

“I just can’t… can’t get it out of my head.” He managed to force out. “It keeps playing like a broken record, over and over and over and over, no matter how much I want it to stop and I…”

His fists clenched at his sides, prosthetic arm lifting. “If I hadn’t given him the charges, he’d still be here and I wouldn’t have this!”

A hand slammed to close around his prosthetic one, his eyes darting up in surprise to see Gideon’s eyes burning holes into him, eyes narrowed. “Don’t, think what I think you’re thinking.”

His hand trembled enclosed in both of Gideon’s, opening his mouth to say something when he was cut off. “Don’t you dare.”

What surprised him next was when Gideon wrapped a hand around the back of his head, pulling him forwards, his other arm wrapping around Mitchell’s waist. Mitchell blinked, his face pressed against Gideon’s shoulder, feeling slightly uncomfortable in the height difference and position but dealt with it, feeling the familiar warmth of Gideon’s body flowing into his. His muscles slowly started to relax, his arms coming to wrap around Gideon’s leaner form.

“You’re making me go soft, ya bastard.” Gideon grumbled, bringing a smile to his face. “Fuck me.”

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

“Move over.” Mitchell glanced up quickly before he shifted over on the bed, allowing Gideon to step over him, settling down on the space on the bed between the wall and Mitchell, his tablet in his hands. He watched as Gideon’s fingers expertly tapped away on it, logging in and connecting to the internet.

So, after Mitchell had let a yawn slip from his lips at the firing range, Gideon had dragged him back to his room, ignoring his protest all the while, really bringing to mind of how much of a puppy he really is to Gideon. But he enjoyed it. And to honest he really did not want to go back to sleep, once his mind went blank the tendrils of the memory would come coiling back and he would wake up in a cold sweat once more. Though, the idea of watching a movie until he felt sleepy enough was helping with his fear as well as the company of his captain.

Mitchell let Gideon push his shoulders back against the wall so they were both leaned against the wall at the head of the bead, the blanket being tossed over them both, tablet settled between them. 

“You tell anyone about this, I’ll put you under the simulator for 48 hours.” He warned before starting the video. 

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

Mitchell couldn’t fight the yawn that forced its way through his lips, feeling his eyes starting to droop, fatigue coiled around every muscle in his body, making them feel like lead. Every part of his body screamed to let himself succumb to the darkness that was sleep but his mind also screamed at him not to, knowing what’ll be waiting for him on the other side. A weight pressed down on his shoulder, one that was not uncomfortable but the opposite, a warming feeling spreading through the point of contact. 

He glanced down, eyes immediately making sight of a head of black blond hair, ears catching the sound of soft steady breathing. He couldn’t help but let a small smile spread across his lips, adoring how all the stress just melted away from his features, allowing himself to adore the older, yet smaller, man. 

He sighed, making up his mind about how his body would just not allow him to stay awake, deciding that it wouldn’t be too bad to fall asleep like this. He stopped the movie, logging out the tablet and placing it on the side table before resting his head daringly against Gideon’s, his warmth and steady breathing lulling him to sleep.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Puma Ilona! Animal puma not... the other type of puma.

Mitchell’s bright blue eyes stared down at the still unconscious captain, like a mother would stare at a new born baby. Mitchell’s soft gazing was interrupted with the reality of that thought, face scrunching up in slightly disgust at the sentiment. Wait. That didn’t sound right. His thoughts were interrupted once more as a soft groan escaped the sleeping male, pulling a smile at Mitchell’s lips at how vulnerable his captain was at this moment, daring himself to run his fingers through the black blond strands. 

Gideon’s done it multiple times to him so why can’t he? Plus, he’s always wondered how his hair felt, was it stiff, soft, rough or just in between? Hm, it’s in between, soft but with an edge to it. He checked the time, seeing that it was half past 6, deciding that it would be a good time to wake up, reluctantly, Gideon.

“Gideon?” He murmured, noting how the said male mumbled something intelligible, Mitchell smiling wryly at the usually guarded male, amused by the innocent look on his face. “Come on, Gideon, time to wake up.”

Once more, a groan answered him so he resorted to the one thing he knew would catch the attention of the captain. “Wake up, my klutzy captain.”

This got his attention, his head slowly lifting as his eyes blinked a few times to focus on his surroundings, windows having opened to let the sun’s vibrant rays send a glossy, golden sheen throughout the room. It lit the blond strands in Gideon’s hair up as he finally rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, masking a yawn.

“Have a nice sleep?” He looked up, meeting Mitchell’s eyes in confusion before realization slowly grew in his eyes, eyes blinking as he looked at the position they were in. His head turned quickly to hide the blush that flooded to his face. Mitchell’s eyebrow raising as his captain abruptly turned away from him, a forced cough escaping him as he took a moment before turning back to him. 

“Did you have any nightmares?” Gideon asked and this got Mitchell thinking. He didn’t, not that he recalled. He shook his head, watching as Gideon nodded in acknowledgement. 

Sure, Gideon was one to always look after his subordinates but Mitchell’s noticed that ever since the first nightmares started to hit, Gideon had started to look after him a little extra, knowing how nightmares can break a soldier as easily as dropping a glass if unattended. 

But that wasn’t the only reason for Gideon’s close eye. Sure, Mitchell’s his subordinate but there was something extra in the way he cared about him. How he feels slightly flustered when he’s around, when he hears his voice or name, the fluttering feeling in his stomach when they touch or the comforting warmth he allowed himself to fall asleep to. He didn’t know what it was, or if he did, he wasn’t ready to know. 

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

After 2 agonizingly boring weeks, Mitchell was finally discharged from being a useless soldier on the base. He sat in the canteen, casually pushing the stirring spoon in his tea, watching it with a blank look as it circled around the rim, a high pitched scraping noise coming from it. His mind was filled with thoughts of his captain, wonders and comforts about the man. Like, was it only Mitchell that felt this way around the man, heart beat fast, flustered? And was he the only one who felt a comforting warmth radiating off him? 

SLAM!

He startled, eyes shooting up to see Ilona staring down at him hard, forcing him to gulp down the sudden lump in his throat from being met with such a terrifying predator. 

“So, where was Gideon this morning?” This question caught him off guard, causing him to splutter.

“Wait- what?”

“I checked by his room early this morning. He wasn’t there.” 

What, she checks Gideon’s room now?

“Mitchell!” 

“Jeez! You’re like a puma!” He exclaimed, moving the slightly disturbing thought of those woman who go after younger men, starting with puma to cougar. He shivered, erasing the thought from him mind quickly before she advanced once more.

“Okay, okay. He was in my room but only because he was helping me get to sleep!” She raised an eyebrow. “Not like that!”

“I’m listening.”

“I had a nightmare.” He admitted unwillingly, suddenly feeling like an animal in a zoo as she stared at him in shock. Of course, they all knew he had nightmares about the incident with Will, where he would wake up but she never knew what happened after he woke. Only Gideon and Irons did. 

“Mitchell, I…” He could feel the darkness start to bubble up as he suddenly felt completely useless, vulnerable as she stared at him in slight pity, a completely different emotion as to what he was used to from Ilona. He was unprepared for the feeling, having been free from it for a while, but now it was back, shadowing every thought in his mind, spreading through his chest.

“No, no. It’s fine.” 

‘Just stop looking at me like that.’

“So what are you guys talking about?” Joker asked in a sly voice as he appeared suddenly next to us, heads whipping to see him being pulled back.

“Knock it off, Joker.” Mitchell blinked as he stared puzzled slightly the spot on table, feeling the weighing thoughts suddenly retreating to the back of his mind, looking up when Gideon’s hand waved in front of him. He blinked once more, meeting Gideon’s face centimeters from his.

“Hey, you okay, mate?” 

He nodded, managing a small smile as all the insecurities temporarily faded away, seeing Gideon’s genuinely concerned face but knowing that they always come back. And Gideon knew it too. He knew about every single insecurity Mitchell had about himself, ever since he was introduced, seeing how broken and lost he looked ever since he entered Atlas. 

Gideon knew the look on Mitchell’s face before Joker and him had arrived at the table, the dark look that covered the usually innocent yet intrigued features of the younger man, the sorrow in his eyes. He patted his shoulder as Mitchell looked back down at his mug, the warmth from Gideon’s hand on his shoulder and the warmth from the warm mug, spreading through his body.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitchell finds Gideon's height cute. Mitchell breaks emotionally when Gideon leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, hi everybody. Since I'm lazy and not very good at following plot lines, I'm going to skip over the parts in the game and go straight to the aftermath in the next chapter.

So, obviously, after Hades was terminated, bound to be reporters, yeah? Well, that is exactly happened. Turns out, they were extremely animated, having their visit delayed due to Mitchell not being in proper health shape. *cough prosthetic arm *cough ribs *cough. 

Not like he had any say in it. It’s not like he asked for his arm to be stabbed, rendered useless, breaking his ribs in the process, for which he did not enjoy in the least. 

Mitchell has never been a fan of attention and now he was being told that he was to be shown in the interview as Irons and the reporter pass by. Whoever watched the news would surely see him and that put him on edge. Sure, he was fine with attention from his friends but this was different. People would see him globally.

To Mitchell, having to ‘keep watch’ over Irons and the reporter for extra safety was punishment. What did he do to deserve this? 

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a hand whacking against his chest, not hard enough to hurt but enough to knock him back into reality.

“Oi, stop daydreaming, mate.” Mitchell jumped back into focus as he straightened up, glancing over to see Gideon looking at him with a raised eyebrows. 

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” Gideon sighed, rolling his eyes as he looked forwards once more. Mitchell followed, his eyes meeting the sight of, oh, more buildings. He sighed, rolling his shoulders, hearing them crack at the movement. 

“Jesus, Mitchell.” He paused in his moments to catch sight of Gideon shaking his head at him. 

“What?” 

Mitchell and Gideon were both suited up in more proper combat clothes, the Exosuit adorning their frames. And it was also just then that Mitchell realized something.

Something he hasn’t ever taken the time to inspect. 

He squinted, scrutinizing the male beside him. Gideon felt his stare as easily as having a finger pressed into your face except this was at a much higher level as to how hard the Private was staring. The Brit started to fidget under his gaze, shifting slightly, hair standing on edge before he just couldn’t take it anymore and blew.

“What are you staring at?” 

Mitchell tilted his head, an adorably cute gesture in Gideon’s eyes that just urged him to hug the Private like he was the fluffiest giant teddy bear in the world. Which, by the way, he didn’t. 

“I just… realized something.” He said between head tilts, seeming to try and grasp what he was seeing at different angles. 

“And?”

“And…” Mitchell up righted his head, blinking at the man before a grin spread across his lips. It had a certain cheekiness to it. It puzzled Gideon to an extent to where he found himself trying to figure it out until he saw Mitchell’s eyes dart from his eye height to Gideon’s. 

Oh.

“Oh, shut it, Mitchell.”

Gideon felt slightly offended by this. Sure he was small but only compared to Mitchell. He was like a giant standing at 6’3! Of course Gideon seemed shorter than him! He was only 5’10!

He didn’t expect what Mitchell had planned.

“I think it’s cute.”

Gideon stared at him, agape at the sudden statement, taken by surprise.

“Just the fact that your more than 2 inches shorter than me.” 

Gideon could feel the heat the started to bubble up, his heart starting to pump faster, his words flying through his mind.

“I think it’s cute.”

“Just the fact that your more than 2 inches shorter than me.” 

He called him cute. 

This time he really couldn’t hide the blush that crept to his cheeks, turning away from Mitchell to hide it. When Gideon didn’t react besides from shutting his mouth and turning away from him, Mitchell thought he had made a mistake.

“Oh, wait, no! I didn’t mean it-”

Gideon allowed himself a small chuckle to hide his blush and thought Mitchell’s adorableness was adoring. Not like he’d ever tell him.

“Don’t sweat it, Mitchell.”

Just then, interrupting the moment, Irons and the reporter came walking in, the sliding doors to their left announcing their arrival, plus the camera. They both immediately straightened up, Mitchell resorting to his usual mission face. Yeah, mission face. 

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

“Warbird!” One of the sentinel operatives announced as everyone turned to see the said Warbird rise into view, guns raising as it hovered over them on the roof. Two familiar faces jumped down from it, Joker immediately going into an offensive crouch, gun raised and aimed.

“What’s the play boss?” Joker hollered over the propellers of the Warbird, just as Gideon made his way over, pushing Joker’s gun down.

“Stand down!” Gideon walked over to Ilona, getting right in her face. 

“If your wrong about Irons, I’ll hunt you down myself.” 

“I’m not wrong.” Ilona stated defensively as she met Gideon’s gaze head on, hers full of determination, unfazed by his threatening position. Mitchell felt himself slowly started to crack, breaking apart as easily as a glass shattering to the ground but he wouldn’t admit it to anyone but himself. When Gideon looked over at him, their eyes met for a split second, long enough for Gideon to pick up how hurt Mitchell was before the latter diverted his gaze. He didn’t see the way Gideon flinched at this small action, making him realize just how broke his decisions had made the Private.

“Atlas-One, what’s your status?” 

“Roof is clear, no sign of them.” Gideon answered, hoping to catch Mitchell’s eyes once more before he disappeared from him but all he got was the averted eyes of his as Mitchell’s old sergeant called it for them to move out.

“Alright! Inside. Now.” He followed Ilona into the cart, turning to watch as Joker and Gideon left, the door sealing them off. 

As soon as the doors shut, the emotional pain of what had happened in just an hour hit him; finding out Irons was a fake, Gideon turning his back on Ilona and him when Mitchell knew Gideon knew what was shown in the recording was real, and letting them escape that way without a single protest. All those times Gideon and him had joked, had fun, been there for each other when the other was down. 

His head hurt, his chest hurt, everything… But what hurt the most was that Mitchell had ended up liking Gideon more than he had planned and he hadn’t ever been able to tell him.


End file.
